Movie Stars and Magic
by Elle Winters
Summary: Dom's at loggerheads with a film star, Rose is head-over-heels in love with Scorpius, Al can't get Jessie, who's NOT his girlfriend, out of his head and James is... well, just being James! Things have certainly changed since Harry's day!
1. Stupid bloody Weasleys!

Sometimes, I really hate my Aunt Hermione. If she did not exist then I would not be sat here now, holding a booklet entitled, 'How To Be A Success When You're The Best', listening to some bossy Ravenclaw 7th Year with frizzy hair moaning on about how unfair it is to close the Library between 11pm and 7am on weekdays (10pm-8am on weekends) and that a maximum of sixteen hours a day isn't possibly enough time to work when 7th Years are studying for their NEWTs. I'd tell her to get a life but I can't be bothered. I'm too bored.

Anyway, back to the reason I hate Aunt Hermione. The only reason I am here is because her daughter, Rose, dragged me here as her fellow 6th Year Charms Student Representative (some stupid Ministry initiative to get students' voices hears – like James Potter doesn't have a big enough mouth to do that himself), the honour of which was bestowed upon her due to her mammoth brain capacity (which, let's face it, is not down to her dad's genes) and thus, I hate Aunt Hermione. If it were not for her, I would be enjoying the warm September sun with the rest of my peers. If it were not for her, I would be having a life. Fact.

Frizzy finally takes a seat, her face all blotchy, and it's Rose's turn to stand up and give the opinions of our class. Except that we don't have any because it was my job to ask people and I couldn't be arsed. So Rose is going to give her own opinions and make out that they're from the majority.

"Well," she says, clearing her throat nervously, obviously feeling guilty that she hasn't done the work properly; she really is her mother's daughter, that one. "Well, our class is-"

"Which year and class are you from?" asks Frizzy loudly, looking deathly serious as she poises a quill over some parchment. "It clearly states in the booklet that you need to state this, otherwise the rules of the meeting will be in disarray and it will all become meaningless!"

I throw my quill at her.

"Hey!" she yelps as it smacks into the side of her head.

"Sorry," I smile sweetly, "It slipped."

She frowns, rubbing her ear. I try not to snigger.

Rose is looking very disapproving. I roll my eyes at her, which she returns with a shake of her head.

I am _so_ the black sheep of the family. Isn't life grand?!

Professor Flitwick, who's chairing the meeting and doesn't seem to have noticed this little exchange, looks up from his notes and says, "Yes, Miss Weasley?"

I nearly ask which one, but I bite my tongue, not wanting to antagonise Rose anymore than needed. Don't ever mess with her when she's in book-worm mode - I can still feel the bruise where she kicked me when I stole her Transfiguration notes last summer. Never piss-off a Granger when she's revising.

Rose throws me another dirty look before addressing Flitwick.

"Our group has said that they are looking forward to the three weeks focused on spells made famous by the Golden Trio but don't like the idea of having the exam date shifted to an earlier date so that it doesn't clash with the anniversary of the end of the Great War. They would prefer the date moved back, so that their revision time isn't cut."

Wow, who knew disapproval got you focused?

Flitwick nods.

"Very well. I don't see there being too much of a problem with putting the exam after the anniversary instead of before as it does seem slightly unfair to lessen time for revision. Thank you, Rose."

Rose smiles and sits back down, elbowing me in the process.

"Ow!" I hiss as she scribbles down what Flitwick said in her notebook. "You did that on purpose!"

She ignores me.

And I thought it was the Delacours who were meant to be all haughty!

Oh God, speaking of haughty people, Victoire is driving me _insane_! Ever since she and Teddy got engaged (after she got him to dump his other fiancée, I might add, but that's a _whole_ other story) she has been wittering on, non stop, about how amazing the wedding's going to be and that she's going to look 'even more beautiful' than mum did because she won't be suffering from stress over the fact that a super-evil wizard is reigning-supreme. She's all heart, Victoire.

Oh and, of course, there'll be loads of press there, wanting to take pictures of the first two famous 'Great War kids' getting married. Which will mean Victoire, mum and Nana Molly will be on mega-high alert, making sure that everyone looks their best and are behaving themselves, which will completely put-pay to mine, James and Al's plans to get completely wankered (Rose refuses to join in – she says it wouldn't be very prefectly of her. I think her mum cheated with Uncle Percy, I really do).

And yeah, okay, there are huge plus sides to being famous: lots of freebies and free broomstick upgrades (not that we need them, we can always afford to buy the best) as well as countless VIP invites to everything from muggle film premieres (the UK Government are still very grateful to Uncle Harry for killing the bloke who was having thousands of their citizens murdered with no way for them to stop him) to grand Ministry balls. We were even hand-delivered personal invites to the launch of Viktor Krum's new SportsRobe Line - Uncle Ron ripped it up when he read it; Hermione went ballistic when she found out.

I just wish every detail of our lives wasn't chronicled in gossip magazines and newspapers – I don't enjoy having my face splashed all over Witch Weekly with the words 'When will Weasley do the same?' written above my head every time James gets snapped with some blonde girl with her boobs falling out. It's all very undignified.

As I'm musing over the price of fame, Rose prods me. Forgetting that I should ignore her as payback for her ignoring me, I look round at her and say quietly, "What?"

"Where's the DADA Rep?"

"What?"

"The Defence Against the Dark Arts Sixth Year Rep!" she whispers exasperatedly, as she looks round the room. "There's no one here."

"What about Finnegan?" I say, pointing him out.

"No, no," she whispers, almost angrily, as though I'm trying to piss her off by suggesting she's wrong. "He's here with Hannah, covering Transfiguration. There's not a single person from our year covering DADA! What'll Professor Hillock say when he finds out?!"

I stare at her.

"Rose, why do you care? It's not like you're the one who's going to get in the shit for not turning up."

"But I'm a _prefect_!" she hisses, as though that means she should be responsible for every person who's ever skipped a meeting.

"Rose, get a grip," I say, just as the door opens.

Everyone looks round to see who it is, and in walks a tall, good-looking boy with blonde hair, followed by another, slightly shorter one with messy black hair and glasses.

"Sorry, we're late, Professor," grins Scorpius Malfoy as he and Al Potter conjure up a couple of chairs and sit down. "We're here to represent Defence Against the Dark Arts."

I grin as I look back at Rose.

"There you go, Rosie. Malfoy's got it covered. No need for you to worry now!"

She turns a bright shade of red and puts her face in her hands.

Oh I love it when people have gigantic crushes on their cousin's best friends – it just makes the whole day a lot more entertaining!

**A/N****  
****Hey guys, so I thought I'd try my first first-person story since Where Does The Truth Lie? I know it's short but I'm just seeing whether you like it so far. If you do, drop us a review and I promise the next chapter'll be longer if I continue!:)**


	2. Because Thursdays are funny days, too!

The meeting ends an hour later, much to my gratitude (Frizzy _seriously_ needs to reassess the amount of times she opens her trap!). I'm not the only one who gives a groan of relief when Flitwick announces we can all leave – Al nearly falls out of his chair, he's in such a rush to get out. Rose is, of course, devastated that it hasn't gone on for longer – she actually _enjoys_ hearing about all the ins and outs of Hogwarts' curriculum. The only entertaining part of the meeting was when Scorpius got his turn to say what the Defence Against the Dark Arts 6th Years opinions were: that they wished the job was still cursed so that they wouldn't be stuck with for Professor Pillock ("Oops," he said hastily, "I meant Hillock.") for more than a year. Flitwick moved on from him pronto.

As we make it to the door I purposefully barge in front of Al so that Rose is left behind to talk to Scorpius on her own. She needs to start speaking to him; otherwise she's going to end up getting so red whenever he enters a room that she'll set herself on fire!

Al looks behind him to see what I'm moving away from. Cottoning on, he grins and ups his pace, leaving Scorpius to roll his eyes before smiling down at Rose, who looks like she's going to be sick.

"Tough love, eh, Weasley?" grins Al as we hurry along the corridor, eager to get down to the Great Hall before dinner's over. I ask you, who schedules a meeting smack bang in the middle of dinner? It's not like we _need_ food to live or anything... Bet it was that bloody Ravenclaw again. I tell you, even _Rose _isn't _that _obsessive about school work, and that is saying something! One time, I decided I'd rather go on a date than finish my Potions essay (as most people would, I'm sure!). Upon hearing this, Rose physically _dragged_ me to the Library and made Madame Pince (she's _really_ getting along in years, that one) promise not to let me out of her sight until I'd finished! And what did Rose tell Michael (Creevey – he doesn't half look like his uncle, going by the pictures I've been shown by Uncle Harry) as to the reason why I couldn't meet him? That I'd got _detention_ for flashing a 7th Year! I was only bloody 15 at the time! Rose Weasley is _not_ as innocent as she likes to pretend, oh no! Least of all because it was actually _her_ who flashed a 7th Year! Admittedly it was when she was absolutely off her face because she'd accidentally downed a bottle of Weasley's Blackcurrant Gin, thinking it was squash, but still!

"Well, you've gotta let them make their own way eventually," I say in mock-seriousness as we walk down a flight of stairs. "Plus, it's mega-entertainment value, watching Scorpius try and make her feel less embarrassed!"

We both look behind us just as Scorpius is trying to tell Rose about how he managed to conjure a cat out of thin air without meaning to. Rose is watching him with such rapt attention that she doesn't notice the suit of armour in front of her and walks smack-bang into it.

Snorting with laughter, Al and I turn back round whilst Scorpius helps a humiliated Rose back to her feet.

"Oh, don't you just love Wednesdays?" Al practically howls, tears running down his cheeks.

"It's Thursday," I correct him, also in hysterics.

"I know," hiccoughs Al. "But Wednesdays are pretty brilliant, too!"

Wondering how a guy with such a straight-laced father can talk such utter nonsense, I ask him a question that is certain to sober him up.

"So, have you asked Jessie whether you accidentally professed your undying love for her yet?"

Al stops laughing at once.

"You're a real mood-killer sometimes, Dom," he says sulkily as we reach a long queue of students waiting to get past Peeves, who's devised a series of questions about the history of Hogwarts that you have to answer before you can continue on your way; if you get the answer wrong, you get a load of frogspawn tipped over your head.

'High-pressure learning', Peeves likes to call it.

Ignoring the squeals of revulsion as people get the answers wrong, I say to Al, "Now, now, Albus, don't say things you don't really mean. You know I'm the life and soul of any party!"

"Yeah, only 'cause you've sucked everyone else's away by your constant pessimism…"

I wallop him over the head with my school bag.

"Ow!" he complains, rubbing his head. "That hurt!"

"Stop avoiding the question, Potter!" I say severely, giving him my most threatening look. "Have you asked her yet?"

Al rolls his eyes before answering.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because what if I didn't actually say anything? What if I then accidentally let slip how I really feel about her?!"

I stare at him.

"Al, please do not tell me you were planning onactually saying, 'Did I confess my undying love for you last week when I woke up in your arms after you caught me when I fell off my broom during Quidditch, thus saving my life?'!"

He looks down at his feet sheepishly.

"Al!" I cry in dismay. "Who are you, _James_?! You _never_ ask questions like that! Not if you don't want the other person to get highly suspicious of your true feelings for them! Did the Teddy and Victoire situation teach you nothing?!"

He does, at least, have the good grace to look ashamed of himself.

"I wasn't thinking," he mumbles, going red.

"Too right you weren't thinking, Mister!" I agree as we reach the front of the queue. "Thank goodness you've got someone as thoughtful as me looking out for you!"

I don't miss Al's look of derision as I look up at Peeves, who's looking positively delighted at the chance to cover two of the most famous kids at Hogwarts in frogspawn (the rest of the Potters, Weasleys, Scamanders, Longbottoms and Scorpius being the other 'most famous kids' here – there's a lot of competition).

"Ooh," he cackles wickedly, "Potty Potter's ickle children are going to get all slimy!"

"My dad's Bill Weasley, Peeves, not Harry Potter," I remind him. "So what's the question, then?"

Looking annoyed that I've corrected him, Peeves puffs out his chest and says churlishly, "Name all of the contestants of the Tri-Wizard Tournament held in 1990s!"

Al and I both raise our eyebrows.

"Well," says Al, looking at Peeves like he's an idiot (which he is), "Seeing as my dad and Dom's mum were in it, it doesn't look like you're gonna be gunging us today, does it?"

*

"Little git," I mutter, as Al and I walk into the Great Hall, covered in frogspawn. "I can't _believe_ he poured this shit on us even though we got the bloody answer right!"

"It is _Peeves _you're talking about, Dom," Al points out as I sit down at the Gryffindor table. "It's not exactly in his nature to play fair, is it?"

I grimace as I begin siphoning off frogspawn into an empty bowl in front of me whilst Al heads over to the Slytherin table (he's a Weasley traitor, old Al).

A couple of minutes later, I'm interrupted by the wonder that is James Potter, crashing down onto the bench next to me, covered in mud and in a very bad temper.

"You better not miss another Quidditch practice, Weasley, or you're off the team!" he threatens me, as he grabs a bowl of chicken wings and begins to devour them.

I gaze at him in repulsion, glad I haven't eaten anything yet. James is the only person in the family (aside from Hugo, perhaps) that can rival Uncle Ron in disgusting table manners. I thank my lucky stars everyday that I am not Lily or Rose.

Trying to ignore the barbeque sauce smeared round his mouth, I say to James politely, "You know it ain't no good threatening me, James Potter. We both know I'm the best chaser in Gryffindor house. You'll never kick me off the team, not if you don't want the Slytherins to beat us."

He gives me a sour look as he begins to shovel handfuls of chips into his mouth.

"Don't get cocky, Weasley!" he says, spraying me with bits of chip. "I could find someone better than you, no problem."

Wiping my face with a napkin, I say to him, "Well, until you do, just keep your mouth shut. Please. Especially when you're eating. Did your mum never even _mention_ table manners to you?"

He grins at me, revealing a mouth full of mashed-up potato,

Gagging, I turn away from him just as Jessie Goldstein takes a seat opposite me.

"Oi!" yells James indignantly, swallowing his mouthful of chips. "No Slytherins allowed!"

"Shut up, James!" say Jessie and I at exactly the same time.

Looking mutinous but having noticed a plateful of garlic bread, he doesn't retaliate, leaving me to ask Jessie what she's doing, sitting with the 'Lions'.

"I wanted to ask you what you thought we should do for Al's 17th," she says brightly, leaning over the table towards James and grabbing a piece of garlic bread ("Oi!").

Sliding a bowl of pasta in front of me, I begin eating before replying.

This whole Jessie and Al situation is all very confusing. Let me give you the low down, so you don't get lost: Al and Jessie have been best pals since the first day of Hogwarts. Jessie, being the only child of Anthony Goldstein and Alicia Spinnet, clambered aboard the Hogwarts Express, all on her lonesome and feeling just a tad bit scared. Al, surrounded by most of his family, spied her standing on her own and asked her if she'd like to join his carriage (me and Rose were sat in it, too). And, thus, the friendship of Al and Jessie began. Both of them were sorted into Slytherin house (although, the hat assured them, not because they were evil but because they were cunning and determined and all that shizzle Slytherins are meant to be), along with Scorpius Malfoy, who they became pally with surprisingly quickly (Jessie did once confide in me that Scorpius had told her he'd only made friends with them in order to piss his dad off, but had soon realised that he did actually quite like them).

So, with the trio scarily reminiscent of Uncles Harry and Ron and Aunt Hermione, they set forth into the magical world of learning… Anyway, the important part to this tale is that, over the summer, Al spent most of the holiday in just Jessie's company due to the fact that Scorpius had gone away to the Bahamas (lucky bastard) with his parents, during which time he realised he'd fallen head over heels in love with the girl. The only problem? He already _has_ a girlfriend! Ah, yes, we come to the love story that is 'Al and Leanne' (or 'Pongbottom', as my cousin George 'hilariously' dubbed them)! Al has been dating Leanne Longbottom since they were 14 years old and, until this summer just gone, thought that she was the love of his life (though there were, in my opinion, a number of tell-tale signs that signalled that she was not). Then, Leanne went away for the entire summer with her mum and dad (Neville and Hannah (nee Abbot) Longbottom) to study the life-span of Mimbulus Mimbletonias (I'm sure the trip was as boring as it sounds). Left _properly_ alone with Jessie for the first time in near-on three years, Al could finally fully appreciate how goddamn hot and funny Jessie has gotten. That was when the trouble started.

Of course, now Al's all in a dither about what the hell he should do. As much as he loves Leanne, he can't get Jessie out of his head. So, does he: a. stay with Leanne to see whether his fancying Jessie is just a stage; b. tell Jessie how he feels and risk her not feeling the same way about him, therefore ruining their friendship due to extreme awkwardness; or, c. break up with Leanne and see what happens with Jessie over time? I would, personally, pick (c.), but Al doesn't want to do anything rash – being a typical boy, he's scared that the grass may not, in fact, be greener on the other side, and so would rather stick with Leanne until he knew either way, so that he wasn't left completely on the shelf. What a pig.

I will say one thing in his defence though: he is making the right choice by not deciding anything right this second: you see Leanne still isn't back from her trip yet. Oh, the confusions of love. Aren't I lucky no one likes me?

Feeling slightly depressed at the dismal state of my own love-life, I answer Jessie's non-question.

"I'm reckoning a big piss-up in the Room of Requirement sounds like the right kind of thing," I say lightly, flicking bits of olive out of my pasta. "James can sort out the finer details – he's good with parties."

James, hearing his name, stops chewing his garlic bread and leans closer to me to listen.

Wrinkling my nose up at the strong smell of garlic, barbeque sauce and mud now wafting my way, I say to him, breathing through my mouth, "Al's birthday. Big piss-up. You're in charge."

"Got it," he nods, getting back to his munching.

"Great!" grins Jessie, looking excited. "I've got a really brilliant present for him, which he'll love!"

You in a corset and suspenders?

Clean thoughts, Dom, clean thoughts!

"Brilliant," I force myself to say eagerly. Jessie and I are usually on a par with the sarcastic comments and stuff, but when Jessie gets animated about something, I'm left, standing in the dust. God, I wish I could get excited about stuff the way she does.

"What's up with you, Dom?" she asks now, frowning slightly as she scrutinises my, blatantly false, expression of happiness. "I know you're not the most upbeat of people, but even for you, a look _that_ forced is pretty rare. What's the matter?"

Hmm, to lie or not to lie? To be fair, I can't exactly tell her the truth now, can I?

"Just knackered," I settle on telling her. "Had to sit in this really shit meeting with Rose, where Ravenclaw prefects ranted on about Library hours and exams and crap."

"Ooh," says Jessie, looking sympathetic. "Nasty. Where is Rose, anyway?"

I start, having completely forgotten all about my red-headed cousin.

I stare around me wildly, trying to locate her and finally spot her sitting at the Slytherin table chatting happily with none other than… Scorpius Malfoy!

"That little minx," I grin as I shake my head. "One incident with a tumbling suit of armour and she's all over him! What _will_ daddy Weasley say?"

Jessie sniggers as I tell her about what happened during and after the Student Reps meeting. Despite being so annoyed at the fact that the meeting was scheduled during dinner and my determination not to miss the main course, I find I'm not actually that hungry, so, once I've grabbed a bowl of chocolate fudge cake with squirty cream and ice cream smothered all over it (I said I wasn't _that_ hungry, not full up!), Jessie and I leave the hall (and Rose, who's still mooning all over Scorpius) and head to our respective common rooms. When I ask her why she hasn't waited for Al to finish up, Jessie says quietly, "Well, he's been a bit funny with me lately, so I thought I'd leave him to it. I reckon it's because he accidentally told me he was in love with me last week and he can't quite decide how to ask me if I remember. Of course, it's not like I took him seriously, so he's really not got anything to worry about. He and Leanne are tight as houses, always have been, right?"

Nodding, as my tongue shrivels up and dies in my mouth, I bid her a good evening and head off for Gryffindor Tower.

As I give the Fat Lady the password (Horcruxes) and climb through the portrait hole, I notice my cousin Lily frowning as she reads through a long-looking letter she's clearly just opened.

Not wanting to break her focus, I walk through the common room without say hello and making my way up the stairs to my dormitory.

The first thing I notice when I get inside is an owl sitting on my bed, holding a large envelope in its beak.

Hoping against hope that it's not left any little presents for me to find when it flies off, I walk over and take the letter from it and sit down, absentmindedly stroking its head as I do so.

Flipping it over, I notice it's got 'WM' emblazoned across it in bright gold letters.

Intrigued, I tear it open and begin to read…


	3. A letter a day does not keep fame away!

_Dear Miss Dominique Weasley,__  
__ To celebrate the 25th anniversary of the end of the Great War, Wizarding Movies intends to remake the classic 'Harry Potter' films. This time, though, it will be filmed with a full wizarding cast. ___

_You will have seen the films in Muggle Studies classes; however, as you, of all people, will be aware, they do not tell the whole amazing tale of Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger and Albus Dumbledore's quest to defeat Tom Riddle. Wizarding Movies wishes to retell their tale in full detail, omitting nothing.___

_ This, then, brings me onto a request I wish to make of you: your mother, Fleur Weasley, was a vital (and amusing) part of Harry Potter's fourth year at Hogwarts and the years following, during the Great War. Having witnessed your feisty attitude, comedic timing and visual appearance during last November's 'Study Like A Muggle Week', I have concluded that you would be a perfect choice to play the role of Fleur in the films, due for release in a year and half's time. ___

_It is, obviously, up to you whether you wish to accept the role and I allow for the fact that this letter has not explained very fully how the whole process will work and how it would affect your studies, etc.___

_That is why there is a meeting, to be held on Thursday, 12th September at 5pm in the Great Hall, which will outline all the details of the project to you and all others who have been invited to take a role in the film. Myself and the rest of the crew will, of course, be open to any questions you may like to ask and any comments you might wish to make.___

_Thank you for taking the time to read this letter and I eagerly await your answer to my proposal!___

_ Yours Sincerely,___

_ Howard Creevey___

_ Director___

_ Wizarding Movies_I stare at the parchment, my mouth hanging slightly open. I quickly reread the letter to make sure I haven't misread it and then lay it down on the bed, my mind whirring.  
"Fuck me," I say, stunned.  
Words like 'film', 'proposal' and 'release' and images of cameras and lighting decks fill my head.  
I jump as a sharp pain shoots through my hand.  
Looking down, I see a red, beak-shaped-mark beginning to form on my right hand.  
I glare at the owl who delivered the letter.  
It's looking up at me expectantly, an innocent expression on its face, my now throbbing hand still resting on its back.  
Little shit.  
Realising it's not going to sod off until I give it something eat, I remove my hand and hold out my arm instead. It hops on obediently and I walk over to Rose's bed and steal some owl treats from her trunk. Resisting the urge to chuck the owl across the room, I feed it some treats and then allow it to dip its beak into my goblet of water.  
And James always says I'm not an animal lover. At least I'm making sure the feathery little git is hydrated.  
I hope it chokes.  
Once it's had its fill, it hoots and flies off out of the open window, leaving me alone to wonder: do I really want to become a _movie star_?!  
Or, worse, become my mother at seventeen.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I love my mum but, seriously, my mum at seventeen? From what the books of Uncle Harry's life say, my mum was a bitch with a capital B. Good job my dad's so down to earth, otherwise she might have lost her head right up her own arse and I would never have been born! I can just hear the world crying out in despair at the thought…

And act? Me? I didn't even realise we were actually being assessed on how we did! I wonder if they set that whole week up just so that the movie producers could have a snoop around… I feel a bit violated if I'm honest!

I wonder if I'm the only one who got this letter?

No, I can't be. If one Weasley's involved in something you can be damn sure that the rest will follow. We're not a family filled with loners, that's for freaking certain!

I suddenly remember that I saw Lily reading a letter downstairs a couple of minutes ago and decide to go and see if it was about the same thing mine was.

Grabbing my letter back up off of the bed, I hurry out of the room and down the stairs, only to find what looks like a bloody Weasley reunion! If it wasn't for the fact that, fortunately, none of my uncles and aunt married another red head, I think I would've been blinded by the sea of auburn that would've awaited me!

"Dom!" calls Rose, spotting me staring. "Dom, have you seen this?!" She waves an identical envelope to mine above her head.

"Yeah, I have!" I call, holding up my own letter as I walk down the last few steps towards her. "Has everyone else got one, too?"

"Yeah!" cries James excitedly, cutting Molly off in mid (no doubt boring) flow and bounding over to me. "And guess who they want me to play?! Guess!"

"A big headed git who stops talking to people half way through a sentence?" I ask bluntly.

"No! James Potter!!" cries James, looking half offended, half delighted.

"So I was right then," I say, before turning to speak to Rose. "Who'd they ask you to be?"

"My mum," she says, looking mortified. "Apparently I speak just like her…"

I repress a grin. Those producers didn't miss a thing!

"Wow!" I say, fighting not to laugh at her horrified expression. "Who's been asked to play your dad?"

"I don't know," she replies, gnawing on her bottom lip as she looks around the common room. "Not everyone got asked to play someone – Lily just got a letter to tell her about it, seeing as it does involve her parents and all."

I look over to where Lily's sat, looking dejected.

"I think everyone who's not been requested to play a main character gets to be an extra, though," continues Rose as she too looks over at Lily. "That's fair, I suppose."

"You gonna accept?" I ask her, thinking that if she accepts then at least if I accept too we can make idiots of ourselves together.

"I'm not sure," she admits, chewing on her lip again. "I mean, what will it mean for our studies and stuff? Surely it'll take over our lives, at least for a bit?"

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Trust Rose to be worrying about the academic side of things.

"I guess so," I say, finding, surprisingly that I really want her to say she'll do it. I guess I enjoyed last year's acting spell more than I realised. "But it says in the letter that they'll answer questions on studies and stuff and I'm sure they're prepared for this kind of thing. I mean, they can hardly expect us to flush our education down the loo whilst they make their big bucks movie, can they?"

"Yes, I'm sure that's true," nods Rose, looking happier. "Hey, I forgot to ask! Who do they want you to be?!"

"My mum," I say, grimacing as Rose had done. "I thought for sure they would've wanted Victoire – well, you know, once I'd found out they were asking. I mean, she's got the cockiness more than me, hasn't she?"

"Erm, yes," says Rose quickly, not quite meeting my eye. "But you're much more of a fit for your mum – you're the right age, for a start, and we all know that Victoire can't act for Feinting Fancies – remember when she had to pretend that she wasn't jealous that Teddy was engaged to that Vanessa but Vanessa saw right through it straight away and they got into that huge cat-fight in the middle of The London School of Further Wizarding Education's halls?"

"Yeah, that was pretty awesome. And can we just call it LSFWE? The whole thing really takes too long to say otherwise."

"Fine," says Rose, just as James comes bounding over again having wandered off to ask all the 7th Year girls he could find whether they'd finally be getting their chance to make out with him after years of rejection.

"Right ladies, I reckon it's time to call a family meeting. Well, one that includes the Slytherin traitor Al anyhows. Got your coins on you?"

Rose and I both fish into our robe pockets and pull out a galleon.

Bless Rose's mum for her intelligence – these charmed coins have been life-savers over the years; there was this one time, when James had gotten so 'sick' (i.e. he'd downed half a bottle of vodka neat) he fell into the lake. Fortunately, I happened to be passing at the time, but, of course, I couldn't drag him out all by myself so I found my coin and charmed it with the numbers 3 (for EMERGENCY) 7 (for LAKE) 0 (for DOM) 5 (for JAMES SIRIUS) and 9 (for PISSED) – the amount of different codes we've had to make up takes the absolute piss – and, fortunately, five of my cousins felt their coins warm up and came to help me, before any of the teachers or prefects (that _weren't _related to us – there aren't many, believe me) could come and give him a detention.

I tell you, it would be a lot easier if we could just have mobile phones.

Anyway, we each change the numerals on our coins (we got Uncle George to give us a hand in making it so that ANY of us could send a message, not just one person like when Aunt Hermione did it (I love the fact that, even though he's in his 40s, George is still partial to a little rule-breaking)) so that they read 0019001109 (ROOM OF REQUIREMENT, 7PM, 11TH SEPTEMBER) and then set about rounding up the Gryffindor Weasleys and Potters.

"Okay Weasleys and Potters!" yells James, standing on a chair and waving his hands in the air. "Meeting in the RoR in half an hour! Also, anyone else who's been asked to play a MAIN character – i.e. Lily Potter 1st please also come along for some snogging practice sessions!"

*

Half an hour later, the RoR is packed full of people.

I nearly exploded with glee when I heard that, whilst Al is playing his Dad (no surprises there!) Jessie is playing – wait for it – GINNY WEASLEY! Oh happy days! I cannot _wait_ until they have to snog. It'll be priceless for sure. Al'll have to pretend like he's not enjoying it and Jessie'll have to pretend she doesn't know that he is! Here's a list, so far, of who's playing who:

Harry Potter: Al Potter

Hermione Granger: Rose Weasley

Ginny Weasley: Jessie Goldstein (snicker)

Draco Malfoy: Scorpius Malfoy, much to his great displeasure

James Potter: James Potter

Sirius Black: James' mate Peter Stephens

Remus Lupin: Some quiet guy from Ravenclaw, Anthony Rogers

Fleur Weasley: Me

The rest of the family are a little put out they don't have parts, but, according to the letters Lily and Hugo got, they're just not mature enough to portray people up to the age of 18, as they're only 14 and 15 or younger and haven't had the life experience. I did point out that, if that was the case, then James shouldn't have been cast either, as he has the mental age of a 13 year-old, but that didn't go down too well.

Looks like it's time to swing the limelight back onto the Potters and the Weasleys! Uncle Percy _will_ be pleased. At least now he can make them emphasise he wasn't a _complete_ twerp the entire time during the war - just, you know, when all the hard work was being done...


	4. A typical day in the life of me

It feels like no time at all that me, James, Lily, Hugo, Molly, Peter, Cyrus – ok, just about _everybody _in Gryffindor house, along with rest of the school – are heading down to the Great Hall for the Wizarding Movies meeting.  
However, whilst everyone else is chatting excitedly about what the meeting will entail and who else will be cast in lead roles, I'm pissed off that, yet again, someone has scheduled a meeting DURING DINNER!  
Whatis _with_ these people?! Do they not _understand _that I _need FOOD_!  
I need food or I will _die_!  
And that is not even an exaggeration.  
Much.  
And yeah, ok, I admit, missing _one _dinner's not exactly going to illicit the end of my life (well, not unless we suddenly get attacked by nuclear curses or something and we have no access to food for the next three days because all the House Elves were killed and no one here knows how to get into the kitchens (some Death Eater ruined the fruit bowl portrait during the Great War and the rest of the world has yet to find out the new way to get in, despite the fact that it happened, ooh, like, a million years ago!))…  
Anyway, I digress.  
My point is, what if someone had scheduled a meeting during _Jesus'_ dinner time, hmm? No Last Supper for him and a whole _world_ of missed messages for the church!  
And, yes, alright, if I actually voiced that out loud everyone would think I was nuts but I am just saying, it wouldn't _hurt_ people to be more _thoughtful_ about when they wanna discuss things!  
That's all.  
It's not like it's a big ask, is it? It's not like I'm asking for _all_ my dinners to be uninterrupted forever and ever! I totally understand that, _sometimes_, needs must but why _exactly_ do-  
"Dom, why're you making funny noises? You sound like a rhinoceros. No! No, you sound like you did that time you fell off your broomstick because a cow mooed in the field next to Grandma and Grandpa Weasley's house!!"  
I glare at him.  
"_James_," I hiss menacingly under my breath, "You swore we would _never_ speak of that incident again! Especially if you don't want me to tell _everybody_ about the time that you-"  
"Don't say it!" screeches James, causing those surrounding us to shoot us startled looks. "You _promised_!"  
"Promised what?" asks Al, as he draws up alongside us, Jessie and Scorpius not far behind, having what sounds like a heated debate about Quidditch.  
Out of the corner of my eye I see Rose go bright red.  
I suppress a smirk.  
Despite their dinner yesterday, Rose is still _totally_ smitten with him and, it seems, _still_ can't be around him without going beetroot.  
It's actually quite cute.  
If you like that kind of thing, anyway.  
Which, I'll admit, I don't.  
Not since-  
Well. I won't go into that just now.  
I might claw somebody's eyes out otherwise.  
Or just start crying.  
I'm not quite sure which.  
_God_ I hate men!  
"Dom – you're doing it again…"

"Oh, sod off."

I pause and then smirk.

"Or I'll tell Al what you did…"

"Alright, alright, I'll stop!"

"No, no, don't!" says Al quickly. "What'd he do?!"

But I'm not that harsh…

Well, at least not yet.

"Ah, sorry Alsnap," I say, patting him consolingly on the shoulder, "I'll save it for parties, eh?"

"Excuse me? Did you know that that is an exact quotation of the comment made by Fred Weasley in JKR's retelling of the Golden Trio's fifth year at Hogwarts?"

We all look round to see who this stupendously sad and knowledgeable person.

"Oh, Jesus," mutters James, putting on his best 'I'm famous!' smile.

'Oh, Jesus' is right. We've managed to land ourselves a Potter-nutter.

Kaley Wisher is just that: a wisher. Ever since she first laid her autograph-seeking hands on a copy of the first Potter biography she's been utterly obsessed. She's tried t make friends with every single Weasley or Potter at Hogwarts (a fair few thousand, seeing as we breed like rabbits!) and when that failed, due to none of us wanting to befriend someone who only wants to be seen with us, not know us, she tried it on with anybody else affiliated with the tales. Even Harmony Towler, who's dad was mentioned just _once_ in the books, when it was revealed that Uncle Fred had put Bulbadox Powder in his pyjamas.

Fame, fame, fickle fame.

"Hello, Kaley, you're looking mighty fine today," grins James, giving her body an appreciative run over with his eyes. "New tights?"

"Um," blushes Kaley, obviously taken aback by the fact that someone as 'famous' and *cough* good-looking *cough* as James was actually bothering to talk to her. "No, I, uh, got my hair cut. It's in the same style as your mum's was in her sixth year here, Rose."

I raise my eyebrows as Rose stares back at her, looking slightly incredulous.

_Nobody_ sane would get their hair cut like Aunt Hermione's was at seventeen. It wasn't exactly a good look. Even the muggle who played her in the original Potter films toned down the frizz as soon as she hit puberty.

Speaking of the Potter films, we've reached the Great Hall and everyone is queuing to get inside

It looks like the producers have invited every single student at Hogwarts.

And their parents.

"Mum!" I cry. "What are _you_ doing here?!"

"Is zat anyway to speak to your muzzer, Dominique?" she asks, putting on her scariest 'I am French, not an imbecile' expression.

I grimace.

Parents are _so_ embarrassing.

"Mum, do you _have_ to be so mortifying," I hiss, dragging her over to the side of the Entrance Hall. "What're you doing here?"

She gives me a look of disdain.

Should mums be allowed to do that?

"I am going to feature in ze movies, non? So do I not zer-fore have ze right to attend ze meeting about it and confirm zat I approve of who zay have asked to play me?"

"Mum, _I'm_ playing you!"

"Well, yes, I do know zat, Dominique! I was just answering your question, so zer is no need to pout!"

"I am not pouting," I say, jutting my chin out.

Mum rolls her eyes.

"Your father is coming with your sister later on, so please make sure you do not mention ze 'V' word."

It's my turn to roll my eyes.

Even though Teddy dumped his first fiancée, Vanessa, for Victoire, he's still in contact with her, due to the fact that they both work for the same travel company, 'Scamanders' (run by Lily's middle-name-sake, Luna, and her husband Rolf), a fact which irritates Vic no end.

And me, seeing as I, along with Louis, mum and dad are at the receiving end of it.

I've gotten so bored with her incessant ramblings on the subject that I've cast a silencing charm on her, which activates every time she talks about Vanessa.

If she goes on for longer than two minutes, it's replaced by my favourite music.

One time, she went on for so long that I managed to listen to an entire Green Day album. Twice.

"Mum, I happen to like having a life," I say sarcastically, as we make our way back over to where James and co. are still waiting to get into the hall.

"Well yes," she mutters as we rejoin the group. "So do I."

"Can you fricking believe how long this is taking?!" growls James, gesturing to the sea of people in front of us. "You'd think, as direct descendants of the films' heroes, we'd get priority!"

"Your father, Harry Potter, would not approve of treatment like that," scolds Kaley, shaking her head disapprovingly.

"Well, it's a good job I'm not him then, isn't it?" snaps James, as he grabs a guy with headphones around his neck and says, "Look pal, I don't mean to sound diva-ish here, but could you maybe get things moving along a bit? My dad _is_ Harry Potter you know."

The technician, the poor guy, looks absolutely startled and begins apologising profusely for having made us all wait.

"It's not bother, mate, just get us in would you?"

The technician certainly does that, pushing through the crowds and yelling at people to get out of the way.

"Oi, James, you jammy git!" yells his mate Chace, who's stood three rows from the front. "Too good to wait with the rest of us commoners?"

"Yep!" James shouts back, earning himself a wallop from my mum. "Ow! Sorry Aunt Fleur!"

When we finally reach the front and enter the hall, I instantly see why it was taking so bloody long.

"Holy crap!" exclaims Al as he sees the hall.

"Nice work!" adds Scorpius appreciatively.

"What've they _done_ to it?" whimpers Rose. "They've ruined it!"

'Ruined it' is a bit dramatic.

They've just added about a thousand tiered seats, a stage and some posters.

And, much to my incredible delight, each tiered seat has a menu sat on a table in front of it.

"Oh, score!" I cry, hurrying over to the nearest set of vacant seats. "Food!"

"And fit girls!" yells James gleefully. "See you suckers later!"

He rushes off, leaving me, Al, Rose, Scorpius, Jessie and Kaley (urgh!) to it.

Thankfully, mum has gone to sit over with the adults, including the stars of this whole saga, Uncles Harry and Ron and Aunt Hermione, which, as much as I love my mum, I can only be grateful for as, if Victoire arrives anytime soon, she'll go and sit with her and not me.

At least, I hope.

"Oh, yummy," says Jessie, as she flicks through one of the menus. "They've got pitta bread with humous!"

"Oh, whoopee," I reply sarcastically, picking up a menu too. "Why don't you eat real food for a change, Jess?"

"Not all of us are naturally sticks like you, Dom," she points out.

Touché.

"Well, you ate that garlic bread yesterday!" I remind her.

"Oh, yeah, I really got to enjoy those two massively fattening bites before James reached over and nicked it from me!"

"Sarky snarky," I retort.

She sticks her tongue out at me.

"You know," cuts in Kaley, looking between us scathingly, "For the children of the saviours of the Wizarding world, you're not very mature!"

"I don't mean to be rude here," Jessie frowns at her. "But please go away!"

Kaley looks affronted as we all start sniggering.

"If I were Anthony Goldstein's daughter-" she begins, but Jessie interrupts her.

"-You'd realise that, no offence, nobody here likes you and that we'd all be happier if you went and sat with somebody else?"

"You're a bitch, Jessica Goldstein!" spits Kaley, so viciously and abruptly that we all recoil slightly. "One day you'll pay for the way you just spoke to me and mark my words, you better watch your back!"

And with one last venomous look, she storms off, mildly missing crashing into James, who's already returned from his girl-pulling mission.

"Ooh, get her!" he exclaims, glancing behind him. "What's her problem?"

"Me, apparently," says Jessie, her eyebrows raised. "I think she just took 'crazy fan' to a whole new level!"

"Mmm," agrees Rose, looking anxious. "Do you reckon she was serious?"

"I doubt it," chips in Scorpius, with a reassuring shake of his head. "She just likes being dramatic. Remember that time you dropped that whole container of newt eyes into your potion by accident and blew up the entire dungeon? She said that Snape would haunt you for the rest of your days!"

"Oh yeah! Oh God, why did you have to remind me of that?! Now I'm going to have to check under my bed every night all over again!"

Scorpius chuckles, which makes Rose blush.

"Don't worry, Rosie, I'll protect you."

I'm surprised she doesn't explode with pleasure, a comment as white-knightey as that!

As it is, she just settles for turning even redder

Perhaps Scorpius is losing his touch?

Speaking of people losing their touch, I turn to James and say, "So, no luck with the ladies then?"

"They were French. Couldn't understand a word I was saying."

"Riiight. James, are you sure they weren't just _pretending_ to be French so that they didn't have to listen to your crap chat up lines?"

"Yeah," he says, although he looks slightly unsure. "Yeah, I mean, they just went, 'Je ne parle pas l'anglais'. Or something. And my chat up lines are not crap!"

"Yes, they are," interrupts Jessie, rolling her eyes. "Every time you've used one on me they've been absolutely awful."

There's a clatter as Al's menu falls to the floor.

"He's _what_?!"

We all stare at him like he's gone mad.

"What's up with you?" asks Scorpius, looking surprised.

Al has the good grace to look embarrassed at his sudden outburst but seems determined to get to the bottom of the matter all the same.

"You've been flirting with Jessie?" he says, throwing an accusatory glance at James.

Jessie, who's adopted the same worried expression Rose was sporting earlier when she first saw the Great Hall, says, "Well, 'flirting' might be a bit of an overstatement. Trying out every single chat up line on God's green earth is more like it!"

"Hey, those chat up lines are classics!" cries James.

"Oh, please," scoffs Jessie, snorting loudly. "'You must be shattered, 'cause you've been running round my mind all day!'"

"Well," grins James, raising his eyebrows suggestively, "If I'm imagining you doing something tiring in my mind, Jessie, it sure ain't running!"

Jessie whacks him hard on the arm, just as Al, looking absolutely furious, opens his mouth.

Fortunately, at that precise second, all the lights dim, saving Al from saying something exceedingly stupid like, "I'm in love with Jessie, James, so back the hell off!"

We're hushed and ushered into our seats by some spotty twenty-year old, wearing a t-shirt which says, 'Voldemort? OLD-emort!'

How totally crap is that?

I grab Al as he goes to sit down and drag him into a seat next to me.

"Ow, Dom-!"

"Shh!" I hiss into his ear. "What the _hell_ are you playing at?! Do you _want_ Jessie to know you're in love with her?!"

"He's been _flirting_ with her, Dom!" he hisses back, looking scandalised. "_Flirting_!"

I'm about to remind him that, a. Jessie said it was crap and, b. HE ALREADY _HAS_ A GIRLFRIEND! but I don't get chance to, as right then a tall, overly-excited man takes to the stage, aims his wand at his throat and mutters 'Sonorous!'

Deciding I should probably pay attention, I punch Al hard on the arm as a replacement for me not being able to yell at him and then turn to face the stage, ready to listen to how a bunch of teenagers and some visionary film executives plan to recreate one of the most successful film franchises of all time.

Especially with a lothario like James on board.


End file.
